


worry love do not fret

by thelovelymadone



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Funny, M/M, Modern Era, relationship things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 15:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20155957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelovelymadone/pseuds/thelovelymadone
Summary: Alexander Hamilton does not mind what life throws at him. However, if he could, he would like to register a complaint with human resources of fate because the universe is not balanced when it comes to him..well with one or two suggestions.





	worry love do not fret

…

Stress is good for your body, Eliza had assured him. She often reminded him that his stress response was something akin to how the body reacted when hugged. She further reprimanded him that he should remember to associate stress with good things. Otherwise, she scolded him, it would kill him much sooner. 

While it was nice to know that, and considering he just got done with a group project (read: constant nightmares), Alexander has been doing his best to do that. If only it were that simple for him but…

“Hamilton.” Jefferson, the living and breathing product of his nightmares; in addition to group members. It probably has to do with the other project--

“Hamilton, our group project.” Jefferson drawls out, like he’s ready to fight. Shit. Jefferson lands his final blow, “Why am I the one not presenting? I am the one who knows the most about it. Also too, compared to you--” Jefferson snaps at him, frustration is laced in his tone like a woven Persian rug.

It’s more like I’m an asshole and I know it. Alexander’s brain catches up as he attempts to zone on a lecture that will likely end with each of them fuming at each other. _How many times do I have to explain this goddammit I’m too tired for this shi--_ Alexander thoughts wander in places that he didn’t even know existed however…

Jefferson snaps his fingers in front of his face. Alexander immediately jumps back, only rocking back in his chair. He can’t help but snarl at him, “What the fuck was that for, Tommy?” He can’t help but feel some satisfaction as Jefferson bares his teeth at him. Bitch. His brain supplies a joke for himself. 

Thomas glares at him. “If you would just pay attention…” Thomas starts to assert cooly. Hamilton can’t help but feel prickly based off the insinuation of that comment. _Don’t you dare fucking say it you asshole, don’t you dare say it--_ Adrenaline and anger is pumping him up when Jefferson decides it’s a good idea to say things such as:

“You would be where you want to be at, Hamilton.”

“You wanna go, Jefferson? Cause we’ll fucking go.”

Jefferson smirked down at him, like he’s a spec of dust. “By all means, please do tell me what I’m doing--” Jefferson starts in on his drawl, all the more satisfaction for Alexander. 

“Bitch, the reason we aren’t giving you a presenting part is because the last time we tried we got an eighty percent due to your terrific performance,” Alexander snaps, his voice cold and angry. He tried to do it diplomatically. He tried to do it the Aaron Burr ™ way but that’s clearly failed. 

The look of disbelief in Jefferson’s eyes quickly gets schooled by a neutral facial expression. However, based on Jefferson clenching his fists, Alexander can tell he’s pressed a couple of buttons. 

“Excuse me, but you were the reason we got an eighty percent!”

“OH really? My intensive research and prepared presentation got us the eighty percent? Really? Compared to your stage fright, I have to say Tommy, you are quite delusional!” Alexander can feel himself getting worked up, but keeps his anger deep within him. Or attempts to keep it within him.

Thomas growles deep with in his chest. He seems to grow each second as he snaps back at Alex: “Stop calling me that! Give me a speaking part!” Thomas’s face is turning red as tomato, which only serves Alex’s point that he is right and Thomas is wrong. 

Alex shakes his head at Thomas, maintaining a cold glare at him. “No.” He insists, like it’s the final decision. _ The last thing we need is to get a seventy-five percent. I am not going to lose my scholarship because this penis is being a pain _. Alex rages within, despite Thomas lame attempts at looking sad. 

“But--” Jefferson starts to argue but Alexander has had enough of this. It’s time to end it. _For once, could he just listen?!_ Alex’s thoughts race past in him as his rage continues to grow. He is about this close to throttling him, but… 

“Jefferson, would you like to retake the class?” Alex can’t help but let his impatience show. This conversation has got to be the dumbest conversation he has ever had. Alexander can’t help but roll his eyes. What a douche. 

Jefferson is silent for a few moments but it seems that he thinks it over a little more. Alex feels a little grateful to--

“No.”

Alex feels a weight off his shoulders. He’s trying not to show that yes he won and Jefferson can suck it--

Alex clears his throat. “Let Madison, Burr and I do the presentation then. If we do it in that order then we’ll be able to get back on track. What do you say?” He asks politely as he can to Thomas who nods, dejectedly. 

“I’ll see you around then?” More out of courtesy than friendship. However, the dust has settled on the issue._ For once. And to think, we did it all by ourselves. _Alexander can’t help but cheer himself a little on the inside. _Without a mediator or anything._ Alex can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. 

Jefferson nods solemnly, picks up his books and backpack. “Sure. Practice this Sunday? I get to judge your performance, yes?” he asks a little smug than he should be, like he was the one who won an argument. Alexander groans internally but politely nods in agreement. Jefferson waves a hand and Alex watches him leave the library. Despite the number of pointed stares at their table, Alexander feels exhilarated by the amount of progress. 

_One done, one more to go._ He tells himself as he finishes up his project, defending the constitution._ I need to write faster. I have only written a hundred, fifty one more to go._ He reminds himself, letting his mind focus and concentrate on working like he’s running out of time. 

… 

Alexander is not expecting Angelica Schuyler in his kitchen, but then again thanks to Hercules Mulligan dating Peggy Schuyler, Alex should expect the unexpected. He closes the house door with a smile as Angelica’s left eyebrow somehow continues to rise. He tries his best smile but as her face hardens, he knows there is something he did wrong. 

Angelica doesn’t waste any time when she strikes. “Alexander,” her voice is firm, with an air of ‘don’t you dare f*ck with me’. “It is your turn to clean the kitchen. Laf and Hercules sent me to make sure you actually do it,” She says pointedly, like she has to babysit an actual baby. 

Alexander groans, “Angelica,” he can’t help but whine. “I’ve been up since four a.m. plus I did Laf’s laundry in addition to mine.” He points out, wrinkling his nose at how ridiculous of a break that was. 

Angelica shakes her head. “Nope, you were suppose to clean it this morning but you skipped out on it. So, again, are you going to make me repeat myself, _ Alexander _?” The edge of her voice is cold as ice and Alexander has to bite his cheek from being a smart ass. 

He shrugs off his jacket, places it on a hook and ties his hair in a man bun in one swoop. He doesn’t bother hiding to roll his eyes at Angelica as he begins to clean the kitchen. _ What’s weird about it, is that the kitchen doesn’t actually need to be deep cleaned _ , he realizes yet with Angelica’s glare on his back has him waste hours of cleaning and deep scrubbing their kitchen _ . I wonder if Adrienne is visiting or something. _ He can’t help but wonder. His friends have been acting rather weird lately. 

However, as Angelica uses her silence but effective threats, Alexander has the rest of the opportunity with the hum of the dishwasher to tide over the rest of the afternoon. 

…

It’s several hours later and Alexander is exhausted. He’s ready to fall asleep. Everyone has been driving him crazy. First Angelica’s boyfriend, Thomas Jefferson, then Angelica Schuyler herself plus that’s not including everyone else in the house. (It doesn’t help that he smells like bleach because why not.) 

The only redeeming part of the evening is…

“Bae!” the familiar but comforting voice that is John Laurens has Alexander sitting up in his bed with a grin. John vaults onto the bed, the scent of coffee beans and bad pastries fills Alexander’s sense but he couldn’t careless. Right now, John has his long, curly, dark brown hair in his lap, talking animatedly about work and a case of soy milk. 

John turns his head directly in Alex’s lap and looks up with a grin. His freckles are crinkling as he grins up. “Before I get into the REAL story,” John says with a teasing grin. He sits up and temporarily leaves Alex’s lap. Digging through his backpack, Alexander watches John grab something before throwing it directly in Alex’s face.

“Catch bae!” John cackles as Alexander almost misses a greasy bag that smells of a cheeseburger. His suspicions are correct when he barely manages to catch the small paper bag. The smell of cheeseburger with mushroom wafts into his senses and Alexander is distracted by food as John looks up at him, grinning. “I was gonna get you a ring pop but I heard you covered for Laf in kitchen duty so here.” John tells him with a bright grin. Alex can’t stop the warmth spreading around in his chest. He smiles down at John before devouring his burger. 

It’s about a couple minutes later when John turns to him with an easy grin. “So bae, despite the cleaning,” he says casually like Alex didn’t just meet death face to face. “How was your day?” he asks, like they’re discussing the weather. 

Before Alex can stop himself, he ends up going into a rant about how he hates how ridiculous the house and the people are getting. It was fine before when it was just him, Mulligan and Lafayette but now with the Schuyler sisters in addition to more people, Alex can’t stop talking. 

It’s a good thirty minutes when he finishes with a:

“God, I hate everyone in this house.” He grumbles, rubbing his eyes. He can’t help but whine about it. _ It’s not fair, it’s unconstitutional, also its complete BS. _ Alex can’t help his thoughts when they run as fast as they can. 

He’s not expecting John to tug on the hem of his shirt. Looking down into John’s soft brown eyes, he can’t help but be mesmerized by him. John looks up at him in concern before asking, “Do you hate me?” softly, like a nightmare has come true. 

Alex pulls John up so they’re at least eye level when Alex reassures him, “Bae, I said everyone not every ten.” He tells him with a smile as John’s face begins to flush scarlet. The contrast of red and brown makes the colors pop and Alex kisses John’s patch of freckles, laughing as John squirms away from him. 

_ How did I get so lucky to have you? _ Alex can’t help but wonder with a smile as he and John spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling and studying. As Alex drifts off to sleep, he can’t help himself but curl himself into more of John. _ This boy has me feeling so helpless. _ Alex can’t help but sigh before sleep discovers him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the world's most patient beta: @marquis--de-lafayeet on tumblr. Check out her stuff on tumblr, it's pretty amazing! I'm @thebulletinhamilton-quotes ! To give you guys context, any time an unoffical incorrect Hamilton quote reaches over 100 notes, I'll do the prompt based off of this. Please leave a comment or a kudos, I greatly appreciate it!


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